


iit miight a2 well be a giift to me from my2elf

by AvianTroubadour



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blackrom, Domination, F/M, Masturbation, Mind Control, Oral, Rape, Revenge, facefuck, handjob, revenge fucking, tentabulge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvianTroubadour/pseuds/AvianTroubadour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long dead Sollux with eons of practice honing his powers finds a certain meteor passing through his bubble with a fresh and new, very much alive Vriska Serket on it.</p><p>Unable to take revenge on immortal Vriskas who have had as much time to practice as he, he decides now may be the one and only opportunity for revenge. </p><p>And because this is porn, this revenge will be horrible delicious noncon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	iit miight a2 well be a giift to me from my2elf

**Author's Note:**

> First draft! May be revised!
> 
> Also, this is some fucked up shit! Be very careful before deciding to read this! I want you to enjoy yourself, not end up unsettled or sad!
> 
> For those still reading, this is actually my first Fic ever! I'd love any feedback you can give.

This was a pleasant surprise that you never expected you'd get. Countless eons, or perhaps only sweeps, but long all the same, had passed, and every single version of her that you had met was older than you. Stronger than you. Tricks and powers honed to a perfection you would never quite be able to reach. 

But this one. This version of her. She had never died. She wasn't ageless. She was 14 or 15 sweeps at best. But she was still the girl who had made you suffer--suffer guilt and loss and pain again, already having stripped away your hopes and dreams by this early point in her life. The girl who delighted in her petty revenge. Vriska motherfucking Serket. 

You weren't sure if it was a miracle, or a small gift from you to yourself that she had arrived, passing through your bubble as she did-- on an asteroid propelled by none other than some version of you from some other life, still very much alive. 

How it came to pass hardly concerned you. This opportunity had been too great to pass up and so you took it. Your hands were still shaking from your triumph as you looked down at the exhausted, soaked, quietly sobbing mess in front of you. Until now, you hadn't spoken.

You had never been gifted like her in the sphere of speech--neither in the mechanical nor the intellectual capacity. The whole time your only utterances were pleased sighs and grunts, not giving her the pleasure of outmanuevering you in a battle of wits and words. But now, as she was, unable to form words between her sobs, you leaned down and whispered to her, quietly, carefully picking your words so you could utter them crystal clear without a stutter or a lisp. 

"What. Happened. Here. You. Earned. Every. Bit. You. Dumb. Prick." 

It had been the pinnacle of delight to overtake her. Ever had she escaped binds like these by sheer dumb luck--the boon of her aspect. But you. You were the Mage of Doom. The force of motherfucking inevitability. And here you were, making certain that her luck had run out.

Each step of the process of tearing her down had been meticulously chosen. Battling against other versions of her for ages, you had picked up a thing or two about mind games. You weren't amazing at them--but with overwhelming power to back them up, you didn't need much prowess. 

She had wandered into the room, bored from exploring, idly kicking over any stray objects she found. A stuffed animal. A trash can. A computer. 

This is where her downfall would begin. With a sharp burst of your powers, the recently struck computer was given the opportunity to return the favor, propelled through the air. It connected with the back of her head, and just as swiftly, she connected with the ground, consciousness stolen from her for a while. 

It had been ample time to set the scene. 

When she woke, a blindfold covered her eyes, her ankles and wrists bound together by a force that felt like rope, but was very much a product of your telekinetic powers. At first she would have noticed nothing terribly amiss about her person, but you would let her regain her senses slightly before you would demonstrate to her precisely what the intentions of her Captor were. 

She called out in the darkness, listing her friends off as if she suspected they were behind this. Dave. Rose. Terezi. Kanaya. Of course she hadn't mentioned Karkat--she knew he would never have done something like that. And for that, you almost wanted to cut her some slack. Almost. 

When she gave up, cursing, demanding an answer, you stepped around her slowly, footsteps echoing. Wherever she was, she would then know it was vast. It was empty. There would be no place to hide. 

She continued to spit vile insults until you stepped beside her. She paused and turned to face her blinded head toward you. Any attempts she might have made to see through the blindfold with her abnormal powers of vision were blocked by your own, greater powers of control. 

Whatever she might have expected to see when she looked at you, she got only more darkness. 

You reached out a hand, gently resting it atop her head, gently ruffling her soft hair. As she let out the first few atoms of a relaxed sigh, you took her comfort, slamming her down against the cold floor. It was then she would notice that she wasn't wearing a shirt any longer. Her jacket remained in place, but pressed now as she was against the floor, she would feel the cool of the tiles against her breasts and she would begin to understand what was in store for her. 

She attempted to struggle free, to no avail, held down by both your physical form and sheer telekinetic force. 

Pinned as she now was, you resumed gently ruffling her hair, running it though your fingers. It was soft. Far softer than you would have expected--not ratty crusty in the slightest. You wondered if that perhaps may have been the influence of the rest of the team rubbing off on her. 

You decided however, that there were more important kinds of rubbing off that needed to be done. Now that you knew that she had some idea of what her assailant had planned did you begin to feel the slightest sparks of excitement flickering in your loins. 

Grabbing a fistful of her hair with force, you tugged her head back, exposing her neck. And ever so gently did you lean in and nuzzle it, licking your lips and offering it a slightly moist kiss. She swore loudly but as you swirled your tongue around between the lips you gingerly placed beneath her chin, her syllables were slightly ragged--breathy, even. 

Had you met on more favorable terms, this might have been a profound kismesitude. Now, however, there would be no such thing. There was no balance. She was nothing but vulnerable, and you, nothing but control. There was no struggle-- triumph had been yours from the very first second. 

And it was time for your conquest to begin. 

You release her, and eased her upright, once again kneeling before you. 

You moved to sit in the chair that you had placed in front of her, prepared for this very moment. 

With a flick of your index finger, your powers flung the blindfold off her eyes so that she could behold you, sitting on an absurd ornate throne before her, summoned from the depths of some tyrant's dreams. 

"Sol-" she began to ask before you pinched your fingers together, forcing her lips to do the same with the power of your mind. 

You simply waved a chastising finger at her, and she glared silently back, firey and viscous like the monster you knew she could be. 

Helpless, undressed, and glistening with nervous sweat, she was appetizing, inspiring a warmth to one again overtake the space between your thighs. 

This time, you would listen. You gently unzipped your pants to reveal to her the writhing twin masses that twisted together to make your bulge. 

You let her lips free for just long enough for her to nervously glance from your  
bulge, to your sneering face, and to your bulge once more. "Sollux, w8-" you let her utter before silencing her again. Mostly held in place by your powers, she struggled frantically, breaths growing rapid, eyes darting around nervously, trying to avoid looking at your member, but eyes always lingering too long for her own comfort. 

It would have been easy enough to have grabbed at her body with your mind, moving her around like a marionette on strings as you prepared to make her your plaything. But that would not be sufficient revenge for the control she exerted over you. 

No. Eons of honing your powers and your mind had given you a far more fitting alternative. 

You released her bound hands and, like flipping individual bits in code, plucked at her nervous system, making her arms move --what must have felt like to her-- as though she were choosing to move them herself. 

You stood and approached her slowly, measuring each step so that the echo finished reverberating in the chamber before you took the next. As you walked, you made her hands move to her own lap, hastily undoing the button of her own pants. She gasped slightly, afraid perhaps, of what was to come. Her line of sight scanned down to her lap, and back again to yours. 

Finally you arrived. You stood above her, bulge writhing in front of her face, beginning to leak with a sticky yellow cream. You gently took her head in your hands and pressed it into your groin, rubbing her face against it, gently glazing her face with your fluids. 

As she panted, you made sure her hands were going to work now as well, stroking her admittedly huge bulge up and down. It would have been enough to let her stimulate herself rigid and leaking from sensation alone, but there would be no humiliation in that. You had more exciting things in mind. 

You gently rocked back and forth, grinding your hips against her face, member sliding up and down, pressing firmly against each contour. With a simple thought, again you pulled at the biological wires inside her flesh, sparking her cerulean member slowly to a throbbing attention, making her hands glisten with the dribbles that found their way out with each stroke. 

Foreplay complete, and the both of you aroused (willingly or otherwise), you stepped back slightly, letting the tip of your bulge rest just past the tip of her nose. You let one of her hands drop free, and once more made her own flesh move itself--to maneuver it up to your member, fingers gently wrapping around its slick, coiled shape. 

You let out a pleased sigh as you looked down at the face of the one you had ruined you, now wearing a mixture of terror and confused pleasure as it stared up at you, a dripping, sticky, pale yellow mess. 

You bid her hands work your members in time, stroking back and forth, back and forth. Her eyes, you ensured, were fixed in your bulge.

How could she not have doubts about her own intentions and feelings on the matter when her body was moving itself, her own eyes unable to look away from your form as she stroked it, pressing it against your face?

You wondered if she asked herself if the enthusiastic pumping of your bulge or of her own was not as out of her control as it seemed. If perhaps she struggled guiltily with the idea that she could stop this but chose not to. 

You hoped she did. As you grew closer and closer to your first release, pale yellow slime cascaded down the sides of her nose, running down her cheeks and chin, the occasional warm drip rolling down her bare breasts and eventually mingling with her own cerulean juices. 

The scent, hard-wired in your brain to do so--left you slightly euphoric. How drunk she must have felt, pheromones wafting directly into her nostrils as fluid passed down the sides of her nose. 

It delighted you to think that her body was telling her at every possible moment that she was euphoric with pleasure in spite of a mind full of shame for that same pleasure and terror at what was to come next. 

You bid her mouth open wide, wide cerulean tongue lolling out, stretched as far as it could, awaiting your seed. She lowered your member to rest the tip on the middle of her tongue and began to squeeze more firmly, faster and faster. 

Had she been doing it on her own, she might not have done so excellently, but countless nights of enjoying yourself gave you, and therefore her hand, an immaculate understanding or precisely how to coax a load from you. 

With a final squeeze at the base of your bulge, thick creamy pale yellow ropes of genetic material erupted forth, pooling on her tongue and pouring off in every direction, including back into her mouth, little rivulets sliding down her throat. 

She might have gagged, but your powers had been thrown into full blast. To keep her from choking, you made sure her air passages stayed perfectly clear, and her throat perfectly open. The moment she tasted your orgasm on her tongue, you made sure her own bulge exploded with pleasure, loosing its own prodigious river, soaking her pants and the bottoms of yours. 

She would grapple with her thoughts. Was the delight of drinking, bathing in your pheromone rich cum the final straw in promoting her to her own euphoric orgasm? 

You let her go limp, and she slumped forward, hands dropping to her side, head pressing once again into your lap. She rest there for a moment, panting, shuddering through the aftershocks of the pleasure that was quaking through her only moments before. 

As she caught her breath, she found herself finally free to move of her own accord, albeit weakly. She gasped and leaned back, beginning to try to scramble away. You would not let her. 

Her whole body, you rendered limp, clamping down on the motor nerves throughout her form so that no signals could go through. 

As she began to topple back, you caught her, once more placing her head between your hands. Once more would you direct it to your lap, but she would be given no such comfort as you had afforded her before. 

Using one hand to open her paralyzed mouth wide, you used your other to ram her mouth down over your still engorged bulge. This was no longer a scenario in which she would question who was bringing actions to be.

You once more brought your free hand to the back of her head, and between the two, rhythmically began thrusting, humping her slack mouth the way a beast might. You afforded her no kindness of ensuring that she could breathe. She would get only what air her lungs managed, all of it saturated with pheromones evolution bid make her heart flutter and her mind and loins pulse with an almost inebriated desire. 

Overwhelmed at the horrifying ecstasy you were inflicting upon her, you grunted and moaned, humping faster and faster until finally, every last drop you had left to give was ready to erupt. 

In the brief seconds before your climax, you forced your bulge as far down her throat as you could, holding her head stable and unmoving against you. 

With your telekinetic powers, you began to please yourself inside her throat, a rhythmic stroke not unlike the one previously administered by her hand. 

In kind, you unleashed the full force of your powers against her nervous system, flipping every switch, pulsing and stroking every single erogenous cell in her body. 

As you began to unload into her throat, so too did her body involuntarily begin to convulse, wave after wave of pure biological orgasmic ecstasy ripping any remaining shred of agency from her. In spite of her best efforts, this was likely to be the single most pleasurable sensation of her mortal life. 

Her bulge rocketed jet after jet of pale cerulean cream into the air, splashing against her chest and your legs. Your own bulge continued its torrent down the back of her throat. Plugged as it was with your member, her throat offered only two spots of egress for the flood of your seed--into her stomach and into her breathing apparatuses, which is precisely where it went. 

And here you held her for several minutes as each of you drained every last drop your genetic bladders had. Of course, unable to breathe, she would only last so long. As she continued to chug down what of your cum she could, her eyes began to roll back into her head, air supply fading. As she slipped in and out of consciousness, the last sensations she would remember would be an overwhelming euphoric ecstasy, inebriating every last cell in her body. And then darkness. 

As she finally slipped away, the last, perfect sparks of pleasure would fade in your member. You released her, and she fell back onto the floor, your creamy genetic material gushing out her mouth and nose from the pressure built up inside her. 

Not desiring her death, you slowly siphoned your fluids out of her throat and lungs so that she might breathe again, but left her stomach full, bulging and distended with your offerings to it. It would take her body days to process it all, and it would keep her drunkenly aroused the whole time. 

You slowly shook her awake and made sure she was able to cough enough to restart her breathing. As she reawoke, her half-dressed body was fatigued and soaked, and she began to sob. She wept. Between the staccato of her whimpers she asked you why. She pleaded. Why would you do this. 

You leaned down and whispered to her, quietly, carefully picking your words so you could utter them crystal clear without a stutter or a lisp. 

"What. Happened. Here. You. Earned. Every. Bit. You. Dumb. Prick."

And with that, your revenge was done. Her lucky streak had ended, and she would need to start fresh. You made a commotion using your powers, clattering objects together chaotically until you heard footsteps approaching.

You stepped back into the shadows to see your dear friend Karkat Vantas arrive on the seen. 

"JEGUS FUCK VRISKA

ARE YOU OKAY?

YOU LOOK LIKE YOU FELL DOWN THE GODDAMN MUSCLEBEAST FUCK TREE AND HIT EVERY BULGE ON THE WAY DOWN

WHAT THE EFFERVESCENT HELL HAPPENED HERE?"

He kneeled down into the puddle and wrapped his arms around her and gently shooshed her. 

You knew he would make sure she would be okay. She'd met her fate, had been reduced to nothing. She had finally paid in full for all she had done, and now she would start fresh.

As the meteor finally slipped out of your bubble, you reflected on what had happened here, and once more you felt a spark of arousal in the twin masses that coiled together to form your bulge. The memories you garnered from your revenge were sweet, and as you reached down to undo your pants, you realized they would likely keep you entertained for a long, long time. 

~Fin~


End file.
